Charles-Valentin ALKAN (1813-1888)
 Complete Piano Music Vol. 4 - Paraphrases, Marches and Symphonie for Solo
    Piano
 Mark Viner (piano)
 rec. 2018/19, Westvest Church Schiedam, The Netherlands
 Reviewed as a 16-bit download
 Pdf booklet included
 PIANO CLASSICS PCL10207
    [71:00]
	I first encountered the British-born pianist Mark Viner when I sought
    comparatives for my
    review
    of his French-Canadian rival Marc-André Hamelin’s recent recording of opera
    transcriptions and fantasias by Franz Liszt and Sigismond Thalberg. (That
    was one of my top picks for 2020.) And what I heard of Viner certainly
    piqued my interest. I’ve since come to know and admire his two Thalberg
albums, Opera Fantasies (Piano Classics PCL0092), and    Apothéose & Fantasies on French Opera (PCL10178). Now I’ve
    belatedly discovered he has embarked on a comprehensive survey of
    Charles-Valentin Alkan’s works, of which this is the fourth instalment. At
    the time of writing - February 2021 - only Vol. 1 has been
    
        reviewed
    
    on these pages, an omission I plan to rectify very soon.
 
    Viner faces fierce competition here, most notably from Hamelin, who 
	has also devoted four CDs to Alkan’s astonishing oeuvre (Hyperion). The 
	latter’s performance of the Symphonie for Solo Piano has reigned supreme for 
	so long (review). But not even the master of Montréal could have predicted that 
	barrister Paul Wee would challenge him in that piece and trounce him in its 
	companion, the Concerto (review). Even more remarkably, Wee featured not once but twice among my
    Recordings of the Year for 2020, with that tour de force and its
follow-up, a quite magical account of Thalberg’s    L’art du chant appliqué au piano (review). Rivalries aside, what unites these keyboard kings is their unstinting
    musicality - no shallow, self-aggrandising showmanship here - which is
    especially welcome in repertoire with a high-octane rating. Not only that,
    they tend to be superbly recorded, which makes their recitals even more
    desirable.
 
This well-chosen programme starts with two paraphrases, one based on    Salut, cendre du pauvre!, a poem by Gabriel-Marie
Jean-Baptiste Legouvé (1764-1812), the other on    Super flumina Babylonis, better known as Psalm 137. The dark
    opening sonorities of the first are as weighty as they should be, Peter
    Arts’s warm, detailed and beautifully balanced recording just right for
    this rep. (Also, this Dutch church seems to have a most congenial acoustic,
    which always helps.) But what enchanted me even more is Viner’s poised,
    wonderfully expressive response to the piece. Phrasing is natural, dynamic
    control is exemplary and it’s all delivered with a quiet assurance that
    can’t fail to impress. Spellbound, I simply had to listen again, which only
    confirmed what I’d already begun to suspect, that this was going to be a
    very special album indeed. As for the psalm paraphrase, it finds pianist
    and composer at their lucid, finely wrought best, a sense of discovery -
    and barely concealed delight - in every bar. Indeed, I’d say Viner
    demonstrates an even greater affinity for Alkan’s music than he does for
    that of Liszt and Thalberg.
 
    The remaining fillers - the Alleluia, the funeral and triumphal
marches and the world-premiere recording of the complete    Trois Marches quasi da cavalleria - are no less enjoyable and
    illuminating. The very faithful piano sound is a joy to behold, especially
    in the glorious bass chords of the Alleluia, the extended treble
    as sweet and clear as one could wish. Moving on, the funereal tread and
    tone of Op 26 is lightened by some particularly agile writing for the
    right hand. But overriding impressions here - and in the celebratory Op 27
    - are of a composer at ease with his defiant, even subversive craft and a
    sympathetic interpreter who exploits it to the full. As with Opp 26 and
    27, the Trois marches eludes easy categorisation. (Then again,
    presenting the conventional in unconventional ways is what this composer
    does best.) Underlying rhythms are leavened with quirky figuration and
    laced with a lively, liberating wit.
 
    At this point I revisited Hamelin’s accounts of the Alleluia and
    both paraphrases, as recorded on that album I reviewed in 2007. I signed
    off by saying this isn’t music I’d want to hear very often. (In my defence,
    I was still new to Alkan.) Could it be that Hamelin’s crystalline,
    extremely forensic approach to this music - helped along by Hyperion’s very
    analytical sound - coloured my responses at the time? Well, those
    performances, still impressive, now seem a bit short on personality when
    compared with Viner’s. To be fair, I do feel the French-Canadian has
    mellowed over the past fourteen years; that blazing talent remains
    undimmed, but it’s now been complemented by a warmth and depth of
    insight/feeling that makes for a much more rounded artist. Remarkably, it
    seems Viner is already there, which is why his Alkan performances feel so
    rewarding, so complete.
 
    And so it is with the Symphonie, its four movements a complex kaleidoscope
    of shapes and colours that demands playing of the highest order. And that’s
    exactly what it gets from Hamelin, Wee and Viner. However, there’s
    something that separates their individual readings: the first two pianists
    bring out the sheer brilliance of this score, whereas Viner reveals its
    ambitious - nay, audacious - design. Time and again, I held my
    breath and marvelled at the variety and detail he finds here. That Viner
    achieves all that and still brings so much character and
    excitement to his performance is really quite extraordinary. Goodness, it
    would be hard to imagine a more thorough and authoritative exposition of
    the piece than this. (Hamelin’s crown, hard won, must now be in jeopardy.)
    And while Dave Hinitt’s engineering for Wee is in a class of its own,
    Arts’s isn’t far behind. Finally, Viner’s excellent booklet essay, which
    strikes a good balance between analysis and biography, is a model of its
    kind.
 
    Astounding music, superbly played and recorded; a mandatory purchase for
    Alkanites and pianophiles alike.
 
    Dan Morgan
 
		
		Contents
Salut, cendre du pauvre!, paraphrase, Op 45 (1856) [8:17]
 Super flumina Babylonis, paraphrase, Op 52 (1859) [6:14]
 Trois Marches quasi da cavalleria, Op 37 (1857)
 I. Allegro molto [5:09]
 II. Allegro vivace* [4:35]
 III. Allegro* [4:55]
 Alleluia, Op 25 (1844) [2:36]
 Marche funèbre, Op 26 (1846) [8:30]
 Marche triomphale, Op 27 (1846) [4:59]
 Douze Etudes dans tous les tons mineurs, Op 39 (1857)
 Nos 4-7 ‘Symphonie’ 
 No 4 Allegro Moderato (10:38]
 No 5 Marche funèbre: Andantino [5:59]
 No 6 Menuet [5:41]
 No 7 Finale: Presto [4:17]
		
		* First recordings